


Playing Nurse (In An Unfortunately Literal Sense)

by SolarMorrigan



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, just a tiny one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Cavendish is surprisingly well-prepared when it comes to illness, and Dakota might wonder more about that if he didn't feel so crappy





	Playing Nurse (In An Unfortunately Literal Sense)

**Author's Note:**

> Written a little bit ago for the prompt "Your Service." Just a short bit of fluff and briefly mentioned headcanons regarding Dakota and Cavendish's families

“You’re gonna get sick, too.”

“Nonsense. I have a robust immune system.”

The only answer to that was a sneeze.

“Unlike you, apparently.”

Dakota groaned and leaned back against the pillows. “Don’t make fun of a dying man, Bal.”

“You are not dying, don’t be a baby,” Cavendish scoffed. “Now, do you need anything or not?”

“Y’know, not that I don’t appreciate it, but I didn’t really think this would be your scene,” Dakota rasped, attempting to clear his throat and only succeeding in triggering a coughing fit.

“What scene is that?” Cavendish asked once Dakota had finished, passing him a tissue to wipe his eyes.

“Playin’ nurse,” Dakota replied, giving up his croaky voice as a bad job; Cavendish seemed to understand him just fine, anyway. “Just not something I’d’ve thought.”

Dakota himself was the second-oldest of five; caretaking came naturally to him. It wasn’t an instinct he’d ever sensed in Cavendish, however, beyond ensuring Dakota was in suitable condition for their missions.

“I’m not a stranger to it. If you must know, my younger brother was rather sickly as a child. I picked up some things,” as he spoke, Cavendish absently brushed Dakota’s hair back from his face, laying a hand on his forehead as if that was in any way an accurate gauge of a person’s temperature. “And the question stands.”

Brows furrowed beneath Cavendish’s hand, Dakota attempted to recall the question he’d been asked. “I give,” he said finally. “What am I supposed to be answering?”

Cavendish sighed, but repeated with surprising patience: “Do you need anything?”

“Oh, right.”

Dakota contemplated the question; he’d already taken all the painkillers he was allowed, as well as the cough suppressant Cavendish had practically menaced him into taking. His appetite was tragically all but nonexistent at the moment, and he was well-stocked with tissues and water. Cavendish hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d picked up a few things. All Dakota really needed right now was something… comforting.

“How about you?” Dakota asked with a tired grin.

“Me?”

“Yep. You asked if I needed anything, the answer is: you.”

“Oh, come off it,” Cavendish snipped. “How can you be thinking like _that_ right now?”

Dakota’s short laugh came out as more of an ugly snort. “Nah, I just mean… maybe you’n your robust immune system wouldn’t mind just lyin’ down with me for a while?”

“Oh,” Cavendish blinked, “well. Yes, I– I suppose I could do that.”

Dakota watched with sleepy satisfaction as Cavendish toed off his shoes—why he insisted he need to wear them even on days off, even dressed in leisure clothes, was beyond Dakota—before climbing into the bed with him. Cavendish had only moments to situate himself beneath the light blanket (the only blanket he’d allowed Dakota, in deference to his fever) before Dakota had plastered himself to his side.

“Comfortable?” Cavendish asked dryly.

“Mm,” Dakota hummed, laying his head on Cavendish’s shoulder. “Feelin’ better already.”

“Yes, well,” Cavendish resituated the blanket down around their waists, apparently still wary of overheating Dakota, “just don’t sneeze on me. I doubt anyone’s immune system could withstand that.”

Dakota hummed again, his already dozy brain pushing him towards sleep, comforted in the knowledge that Cavendish was right where Dakota needed him.

(Unfortunately, he did wake by sneezing on Cavendish not once, but twice. Though he did, in his defense, vow to take just as good care of Cavendish as Cavendish had of him, should he get sick.

Cavendish was unmoved.)

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](http://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/183930565098/playing-nurse-in-an-unfortunately-literal-sense)


End file.
